Rest Beneath the Stars
by Arya May
Summary: Though Germany knew it was the utmost wrong to be looking at his own brother like this, his hands tightened behind his back anyway and this irrational, illogical part of his mind somehow convinced himself to stay and speculate. - Slash. Germancest.


_**Rest Beneath the ****Stars**_

**A/N: I dunno what's with me and Germancest lately, but honestly I do admit that it's extremely fun writing it- even more so in a historical standpoint, like this one. _East to West_ was pretty much a pwp, but this one actually has a little of a background. And I daresay, it's nowhere as explicit.**

**This piece takes place just some time after the creation of the German Empire in the mid 1800's. I always honestly thought that that was kind of when Germany- if he had any feelings for Prussia- would have done something about it. Ludwig at this point is probably in his late teens if we were to judge from a human standpoint so yes, he's quite horny XD**

**Hope you enjoy~**

**Oh, and do review. More reviews = more motivation to write this kind of stuff, as I generally don't go into this kind of slash at all.**

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Under the silver sheen of the moon and the flickering candlelight that was a dying ember in the otherwise dark room, Gilbert's body reminded Germany of something not far from ice, with its hollows and angles and defining paleness of complexion that someone only like him could acquire. Perhaps he knew that his brother was watching him. After all, Prussia had always had this uncanny sense that was almost like a cat's which never allowed him to be sneaked up upon- something that he had developed after spending so much time at war and in danger during campaigns. No, he must have known. It was stated clearly in his red red eyes, that infernal glint which danced within the crimson that contrasted his skin so brightly like fire upon snow, and the small smile that rested on his lips- a faint whisper of his usual arrogance.

Though Germany knew it was the utmost wrong to be looking at his own sworn brother like this, adopted or otherwise- his hands tightened behind his back anyway and this irrational, _illogical_ part of his mind somehow convinced himself to stay and speculate. He bit his lip slightly despite everything, and the neglected voice of the remnants of his moral fibre was quickly squashed and sent packing away.

Perhaps in another world, the saner part of him would have won.

This man whom he called his brother for over half a century now was laying on the bed with all the brash airs that made him Prussia, but his relaxed stance also had something that Ludwig wasn't too familiar with- a lazy grace, almost, but wistful and imbedded, not unlike the flutter of a butterfly's wings. There was always something different about the albino that separated him from the rest of the European nations: his overwhelming lust for power yes, but that was nothing really new- so maybe it was the way that he managed to conceal all his pent up emotions behind that narcissistic mask, and that chip on his shoulder that was the result from the so many battles he had fought to protect his very existence from being wiped off the map ever since he had been born into the world. Germany thought him to be insane once upon a time, still believed that he was insane to a degree in mind, but mingled with that was an odd blend of respect and fear and desire and _love, _even- something that might have extended beyond the narrow confines of a sibling to sibling relationship.

It was something that was not unlike the inevitable. How could he not end up harbouring emotion for the nation who ended up giving him everything, was the only person who consolidated him through the worst of times, and raised him like his own?

_I'd give you the world it I could, Lutz. _ Gilbert had said once before he departed with Austria to fight the wars in Denmark, _I'd give you all of that and more._

The shame that he had felt when he first came to terms with his own feelings had been long since replaced with something that followed a more natural stance. He never said anything of course, in fear of driving the older nation away, but if Prussia had noticed the subtle changes in attitude that his protégée displayed he never chose to comment.

So he, unable to resist temptation, had finally caved in and decided to sink to such a low degree as to _spy _on his brother. He didn't have a better word- didn't want to use a better word because it would be solely unjustified to attempt to cover up this indecency against the person who mattered the most to him.

The Lord hated sinners, after all.

But blue eyes widened as he watched, as helpless as a person under a trance as Gilbert began exercising patience onto himself with his calloused but clever hands. Such patience, a deviation from the person he knew his person to be- hot blooded and rashly impulsive, patience as if he could wait another era just so someone would complete his work for him. But Gilbert was playing with him and Ludwig knew that, though he couldn't help but be mesmerized in the way his messy platinum locks blended with the sheets and pillows like a fresh snowfall on a winter's morning, and the way his fingers grazed his neck, his chest, his thighs-

For he _did_ want, and now his blood burned at the sight of his brother and the thoughts of all the touches that he could have given if he wasn't as cowardly enough as to lock his emotions away. It burned like how it might have been after a few strong glasses of alcohol, and suddenly the world had seemingly stopped- nothing but a black backdrop against the fire that Prussia was aflame by. The whole thing was madness, but it was a consuming sort of madness- a poison, eating away at him and that _voice_ once again telling him to step forward and give his brother what his brother could not refuse…

It was the madness that made Germany step forward, his eyes a canvas for lust to burn like the edges of used parchment paper. It was the quickening of Prussia's breaths, the arch of his back and the similar look of want that had etched itself all over his brother's face that made him drop any sort of his usual common sense that if he went ahead with this, then there would be no turning back.

And so he put it in Fate's hands. Prussia however, didn't even look surprised as he gave the blond one of his trademark smirks once he revealed himself, his heart pounding a mile a minute.

"It's about time, Lutz. The awesome me was getting almost impatient." he said almost carelessly as he pulled the younger nation towards him on the bed, but Germany didn't hear too much of what came after because he knew now that he had permission-

And permission, to be damned because he always had wanted-

Would want, his own brother, but nevertheless-

He could not describe that first rush of warmth as Prussia kissed the back of his hand and told him, "_Do what you will._" Nor as he dared to brush his lips across of Prussia's own.

And so-

So-

It begins.

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**So like I said before, a review would be appreciated.**


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